In The Moonlight
by Pixietails
Summary: [Yaoi] A drunken Miroku decides to take a walk down to the nearby lake on a pleasant, moonlit night. However, what he finds is much more than he bargained for...


**Disclaimer:** Inu-Yasha is the creation of Rumiko Takahashi and I do not own the characters or anything else...yeah.

**Warnings:** Yaoi, rated M for mature! Like the video games. Movie rating...PG-13 or R. Dunno. Probably R.

Don't ask when this is set. It was a quick story written for a friend. Several words were left in Japanese because I didn't feel there was an appropriate translation for them. If you don't like this kind of stuff, **do not read**. I don't need reviews (if there are to be any...) of people saying "Eww, omigod, you're sick!" You saw the warning in the title and read it anyway, so you obviously were interested...

* * *

Sometimes, he honestly wondered why he stayed with Inu-Yasha.

Miroku looked up from his third cup of sake, cheeks already tinted pink from the rice wine. Inu-Yasha had given him a bad time earlier, something he was now quickly getting over. Did the hanyou not appreciate fine lodgings and food? Not to mention they were free. Kagome and Shippou certainly had gotten over the fact that Miroku conveniently located demonic auras around the inns and he had the feeling Sango didn't like it, but definitely didn't mind it. So why was Inu-Yasha always throwing fits about it?

The white-haired hanyou was currently complaining to Kagome about something. Miroku tried his best to tune him out, but the high-pitched voice was difficult to ignore. Apparently she had forgotten his favorite snack. He treated her like a walking food tray and flew off the handle if she forgot something.

Which earned him several consecutive "osuwari!"'s. Miroku grinned a little.

"What the hell did you do that for!"

"Because!"

"The hell kinda answer is that!"

After all this time, one would think Inu-Yasha would be a little more sensitive to Kagome's feelings. It was painfully obvious that he had feelings for her. Everyone knew. But Miroku still would think that he would learn. . . .

"Houshi-sama?"

Miroku jumped a little, jolted out of his thoughts by the sudden voice. He turned to see Sango peering intently at him.

"Hm? Oh, yes, Sango-chan?"

"When did you finish off your fourth sake?"

Miroku blinked, looking down at his cup. He remembered the third—that had only been a moment ago—but when did he pour the fourth? Or drink it for that matter? He looked back at Sango, smiling.

"I don't recall, but I'm not entirely sure that was my fourth. I had better have another just to make sure . . ."

Sango sighed, plucking the sake bottle out of his sealed hand and set it out of his reach. It didn't take much for Miroku to get drunk; something Sango knew quite well. Miroku pouted at her, setting his empty cup on the floor.

"Oh come on, just one more. It's not like I have anything else to do anyway . . ."

"Do you see Inu-Yasha and Kagome drinking so much?"

Miroku thought for a moment. "...No?"

"Well?"

"..."

Sango sighed and pushed the bottle back over to him with the hope that if he drank enough, he would pass out and leave her alone. Not that she didn't mind his company—she liked him after all. Liked him a lot. But he was still a damned pervert that—

"Kyaa!"

Miroku flinched, having his vision recently readjusted via Sango's palm. He turned his head back, giving Sango a lecherous grin, and held up his offending left hand.

"It has a mind of its own?"

Sango glared at him and stood up, moving to sit beside Shippou and Kirara. She was getting really tired of that. He was cute, yes, and he could be a real sweet guy . . . but sometimes, she just wanted to kill him.

Miroku began feeling hot, the sake beginning to really effect him. It tasted terrible at first, but after that first one, the second one was tasting very nice. The third was even better . . . then came the fourth . . . and how many was he on now? He figured that he must have definitely looked drunk, because Inu-Yasha and Kagome had stopped fighting and their blurry shapes were apparently turned in his direction.

"I am . . . going to get some fresh air . . ." Miroku announced, carefully climbing to his feet. He looked around for his staff and nearly toppled over, pressing a hand to his mouth to suppress his amused giggle. Inu-Yasha scoffed.

"Don't fall in the lake out there, okay? I really don't want to have to drag your drowned ass out."

Miroku decided it was safer not to answer and stumbled outside, taking a deep breath of the late spring air. He vaguely heard the others talking about him inside, but he didn't care. Let 'em talk! He was feeling good and it was a beautiful night. Now, if only there was a beautiful _woman _to go with it.

Deciding he would take a walk, Miroku difted in the direction of the lake, remembering what Inu-Yasha had said to him. He scoffed lightly to himself, telling himself mentally that he was _not _going to fall in. He wanted to see the fireflies and the reflection of the full moon on the—

_Snick._

Miroku froze, looking around for the source of the sound. There was someone in the trees not far from where he was standing, near the lake side. Looking back, Miroku noticed with slight shock how far away the inn was. He hadn't realized how far he had walked in that short time. Not to worry . . . if someone was out there, Miroku, drunk off his ass, was perfectly capable of protecting himself.

Or passing out.

While trying to remember which arm the rosary was around, a tall figure slipped from the tree line, making their way to the lake. It was difficult for Miroku to really categorize the person other than 'moving'. Or 'blurry'. But from Miroku could see, they were most definitely female.

...Or, at least, possibly. Hell, he had a fifty-fifty chance.

Miroku decided he'd try his luck. He quietly snuck closer, freezing only when his alcohol-riddled brain registered that this person was about to bathe. He stood there for a moment or two, debating whether or not he should still try to talk to them, or remain where he was and just watch.

It took him a minute to discover that he had been noticed.

The monk flushed, feeling suddenly intimidated by the cat-like eyes watching him from the darkness and entranced at the same time. He could tell now that it was a man, a very beautiful man. The night wind gently rustled his long, silver hair, which almost glittered in the pale moonlight, his features lit up occasionally by fluttering fireflies. Miroku couldn't tear his eyes away, even though he now knew that the person was a male, that he should have _no _interest in him whatsoever. But he was just so goddamned _pretty,_ so unsettling familiar and . . .

_Oh my _God_, that's Sesshoumaru . . ._

Even with this revelation, Miroku found himself unable to look away, contributing it all to the alcohol. The entire time, Sesshoumaru didn't move, meeting the monk's gaze and holding it. After what seemed like an eternity, Miroku broke the contact, looking quickly to the side. Flustered, cheeks burning, he turned to leave, to walk back to the inn—

_—weird . . . too weird. I think I need to get out of here—_

—and didn't even take a step before feeling a hand slide over his shoulder and down his chest. Acting on instinct, Miroku slammed his elbow into Sesshoumaru's stomach and turned around, stumbling back quickly.

"Leave me alone!" the monk shouted, tripping over his feet and tumbling unceremoniously to the ground. He waited for a laugh, a chuckle, anything. When nothing came, he risked a glance up at the youkai.

Sesshoumaru was watching Miroku with interest, his gold eyes scanning over the human's slight form, as if he could see the body beneath the flowing robes. He wondered briefly why he was wasting time with this human, this monk who was nakama with his filthy brother, Inu-Yasha. A small voice at the back of his head decided to remind him.

The youkai detested humans, making an exception for the little girl, Rin. But there was also one more that had caught Sesshoumaru's interest, and he was sitting there in front of him, incapacitated and looking absolutely adorable. Why the monk was different, Sesshoumaru wasn't sure. Perhaps he was like Rin. It was hard not to like the girl.

Sesshoumaru knelt down in front of the monk, leaning into him so that their faces were mere inches from each other. Miroku leaned back, feeling his heart begin to race.

"Why were you watching me?"

Miroku numbly searched for an answer, his brain seeming to have shut down, instincts taking over his body's functions. Dear God, he should _not _be feeling this way about another male, a _youkai_, Inu-Yasha's _brother,_ but right now there was something had he needed to tend to and he would be damned if he cared whether or not it was right or wrong.

As if reading the monk's mind, Sesshoumaru leaned forward, closing the small gap remaining between them and grabbed Miroku by the chin, capturing the human's lips roughly with his own. He felt the younger man stiffen, hearing his breath hitch and leaned against him, easily pushing Miroku onto his back. Sesshoumaru wasn't the kind to play around. He would get what he wanted when he wanted it.

Which was right now.

Evidently Miroku was wanting the same thing. He began to kiss Sesshoumaru back, awkwardly at first, but soon gaining confidence. The youkai ran his hand through Miroku's silky black hair, delving his tongue into the smaller man's mouth, exploring, tasting. He heard a soft moan and pressed his body into Miroku's, feeling the human shudder beneath him.

Sesshoumaru let his hand fall to the monk's chest, pulling at the tie of the suddenly very unnecessary robes. He was mildly amused as Miroku brought his hands up to expedite the process.

Soon they were both unclothed, Miroku all but clinging to Sesshoumaru as the youkai kissed and licked him, trailing kisses down from the human's neck to his smooth chest and stomach, stopping to swirl his tongue around the monk's navel, his hand trailing down even farther. Miroku gasped slightly, letting out a soft whimper. Sesshoumaru would probably have had to laugh a little at Miroku being so utterly submissive if he wasn't intent on taking the monk right then and there.

Which he did. Violently.

Miroku woke up sometime later, the full moon low in the sky. He was sore; _very _sore, and he was having slight trouble breathing, like there was a heavy weight pressing down on his chest. He had felt so good for a while, then Sesshoumaru had abruptly _entered _him, and good God, Miroku was sure that sex should not hurt so much.

When he tried to sit up, Miroku realized there was a sleeping youkai on top of him, face nuzzled into his neck. The monk sighed and lay back down, staring up at the flickering fireflies that passed over them and decided he now knew _why _he remained with Inu-Yasha.

Sesshoumaru.


End file.
